


The Definition of Not Leaving

by RoseByAnyOtherName17



Series: The Distance [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Darkness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Online Classes, Scenting, Talk of Bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9216749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseByAnyOtherName17/pseuds/RoseByAnyOtherName17
Summary: Stiles pressed his nose behind Derek's ear like he knew exactly what it meant and left him shaking.Magic coursed through Stiles' body, and Derek pulled him close anyways.Scott howled in pain from the bathroom, but there on the stairs Stiles whispered, "I'm yours."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here you are :) let me know what you think! I'm having a lot of fun writing this

Derek started online classes a few days after Lydia left for Berkeley, using Stiles’ laptop until he could get his own. He woke up earlier than Stiles most mornings to do the work, as soon as the sun was high enough in the sky to avoid waking Stiles with the brightness of the screen, but it didn’t matter. The clack of the keys woke Stiles anyways, and when he realized that it was just Derek, he would turn on his side and press his nose to Derek’s hip. After a couple of mornings like this, Derek tried to go downstairs to the kitchen to work, but Stiles gripped his wrist tightly. Derek didn’t need him to say anything to know exactly what that meant and stayed put, and when Stiles was fully awake he took the laptop away and pushed Derek down into the sheets again.

 

There were mornings that Derek just couldn’t find it in himself to drag himself into a sitting position and reach for the laptop on the floor next to the bed, and then there were mornings when he didn’t think he could stay still enough to do the work. On these days, Stiles would have something ready for breakfast when Derek came back after a long run in full shift, and on the others, he would get up and have breakfast ready when Derek finally got up. Then Stiles would sit down with him at the kitchen table and rest his head on Derek’s shoulder while he worked until he was finished or needed to get to the library.

 

Stiles worked at a café downtown in the afternoons and evenings. If he was working a late shift, Derek would go in at the end to go home with him, even though Stiles insisted he didn’t have to. Liam walked there after school to sit at the counter and bug Stiles in his free time, and usually Malia would go in right before or after classes and beg Stiles for help with her coursework. Surprisingly, she had a knack for chemistry and its straightforward equations, but physics was beyond her despite help from Lydia and Stiles both throughout high school. Sometimes Derek couldn’t help remembering that she and Stiles had dated for almost a year, that he had anchored her when she hadn’t known how. It never mattered though, not when Stiles bit his lip to hide a grin when Derek pressed his face into his hair upon meeting him in the parking lot outside despite the other workers peering in through the window. It didn’t matter because by now, Derek and Stiles’ scents were so intertwined that Derek couldn’t pull them apart anymore.

 

He didn’t think about how Stiles must be rubbed into his skin by now too until he passed Scott in the street and the other werewolf stiffened, eyes flaring red for a brief second. They faced each other for a second, Scott’s eyes narrowed, furious, and Derek realized that the alpha still thought of Stiles as _his._ Stiles had smelled like Derek for a long time now, a natural result of constantly sharing the same space, but now Derek smelled like Stiles too, smelled like them both. Stiles had staked a claim without even realizing it, had put that claim on Derek, and not Scott. Scott’s jaw clenched and for a moment Derek thought he was going to turn on the spot. But he went rigid and turned on his heel. Derek watched him until he was out of sight, and didn’t notice that he was shaking until he stepped into the café and Stiles immediately put down a tray and came to him, cupping his face in his hands. “Derek,” he murmured, and his voice alone was enough to calm him down.

 

Derek didn’t have to say anything more than, “We smell like each other,” and Scott’s name for Stiles to understand. He pressed his nose in the space behind Derek’s ear and inhaled like he had any idea what that meant. Derek started shaking again and didn’t stop until Stiles was spread out underneath him with his heartbeat racing and his mouth formed around the shape of Derek’s name.

 

**

 

“You’re mine,” Stiles said in awe, waking Derek up. He was staring at Derek in the dark, lips parted, eyes wide with surprise. He looked like he’d been watching Derek sleep for awhile.

 

“Yeah,” Derek said sleepily, raising his head enough to press a kiss to the corner of Stiles’ jaw. “And you’re mine.”

 

“I know I’m yours,” Stiles told him quietly. “I just wasn’t sure that it went both ways.”

 

“It goes both ways.” Derek pulled him down and closed his eyes again when they were settled. He was almost asleep again when Stiles whispered his words against Derek’s chest.

 

“No one’s ever been mine too.”

 

Derek deliberately pushed his nose in the space behind Stiles’ ear and breathed in.

 

“Oh,” Stiles said softly.

 

**

 

An omega came to town late September looking for Scott and ran into Derek in the library. “You’re part of the pack,” she said immediately. “The pack of the true alpha.”

 

“I’m not,” Derek responded.

 

“But…you’re not like me. You’re not alone, I can smell it. You have a pack.”

 

Derek sighed. “How long ago were you turned?”

 

She frowned. “A few years ago.”  


Derek put down the books and turned to her. “What you smell on me isn’t pack. You’re right, I’m not alone. I have…” He frowned. He wasn’t sure what to call Stiles. The word “mate” came to mind, but he knew that wasn’t true. What was the word Cora’s alpha had used? “I have a bond with someone. That’s what you smell. You should learn the difference, because if you come across one of the pack members and they don’t know you, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

 

“Introduce me then,” she begged. “I need a pack.”

 

“I can’t.” Derek went back to the books. “I’m not friends with the alpha.”

 

“Then how are you here?”

 

“I’m Derek Hale. Before this was the true alpha’s town, it was my family’s.” He knew she knew the name by the way her eyes widened and her heart skipped. “I suggest you leave now. Leave Beacon Hills, because this isn’t safe for you. Scott won’t take you, I promise he won’t. I know a pack that might though, on the east coast. I can get you in contact with them.” He told her to meet him at the café later in the evening, when he knew Stiles had a break, and then he ignored her until she went away.

 

**

 

“You’re magic,” she said the moment Stiles sat down at the table with them. She shifted her gaze to Derek. “Is it possible to be bonded to someone with magic? Someone _human?”_

 

“We’re not really interested in what’s possible and what isn’t,” Derek said firmly. “What we’re here to do is call my sister, have her talk to you, and let her alpha decide if they want to meet you. Then we’ll put you on a plane and they’ll decide what to do with you next, if they agree.”

 

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not going to be passed around like some sort of orphan.”

 

“You’re not strong enough to go against either of us,” Stiles remarked. “You’re on territory you weren’t invited to and if you hadn’t found Derek first, we can’t guarantee that you would’ve walked out alive. Your best option right now is to listen to us and do what we say.” He smirked. “And I mean, you are sort of an orphan, aren’t you? All omegas are.” That dark streak inside him was coming through, the part of him that had been the nogitsune, the part of him gained when he saved his father’s life with his own. Derek laid a hand over his under the table and watched as the power drained from his expression. When Stiles nodded, he called Cora.

 

They put the girl in a hotel for the night and when they got home to the empty house, Stiles nearly vibrated out of his skin trying to keep his magic from rising up and leveling the whole house. “Don’t touch me,” he gasped when Derek rested a hand on his shoulder. Derek could feel the current running through Stiles’ veins like a livewire, but he methodically stripped Stiles’ shirt off anyway and pulled him to the floor. “I’m going to hurt you,” Stiles said desperately, but he was pressing himself against Derek anyway, shuddering as he watched Derek open himself up on his own fingers and sobbing when Derek pulled him close until there was no space left between them.

 

“Don’t hold back,” Derek whispered, and the way his body ached after Stiles came with overwhelming heat and energy was worth how Stiles pressed their foreheads together with a tiny laugh, still inside Derek. “You’re beautiful,” Derek murmured, stroking his fingers through Stiles’ damp hair and pressing his lips to his temple.

 

**

 

Scott showed up just before dawn, heart beating desperately and shivering so hard that his knuckles glanced off the door when he knocked. Derek stayed between him and Stiles when they opened the door, Stiles with a hand over his tattoo but not moving around him. Scott’s veins were black all the way up to his neck and his eyes were the red of an alpha that couldn’t turn back. “Help me,” he pleaded. “Please.” Stiles caught him before he could hit the ground.

 

“Call Deaton,” Stiles said grimly.

 

Derek pulled out his phone without a word.

 

**

 

Stiles pulled Scott up the stairs and into the bathroom with Derek close behind, ready to get between them if Scott made a move. But Scott only groaned and dug his claws into his palms, blood dripping down his wrists and then falling onto the white porcelain of the bathtub. He was fully turned now, but it was all wrong, his face twisted and fangs biting into his own lip, too hard for him to heal immediately. Stiles stripped off his shirt and Derek stopped talking, because Scott’s whole chest was covered in black lines from veins that shouldn’t have been close enough to the skin to show up like that. “Derek?” Deaton’s voice in his ear.

 

“Get to Stiles’ house now,” Derek said, and put the phone down so he could grab Scott’s wrists and pin them to the sides of the tub so he would stop hurting himself. Blood slicked behind everywhere he touched and it dribbled down his chin where he had dug his fangs into his lip to keep from screaming. “Scott, if you have to scream, do it.” Scott let go of his lip long enough to _howl_.

 

“That’ll get Malia and Liam here.” Stiles had his hands on Scott’s chest, eyes closed intently. The burst of magic between him and Derek hadn’t left him with the bone-weary exhaustion that magic usually did, and Derek could feel him using it now, knew exactly where it was crackling along his fingertips as he used it to figure out what was wrong inside of Scott. Stiles’ face cleared in an instant, blank in a way that filled Derek with dread, and the magic snapped back into him.

 

“What’s happening to him?” Derek asked urgently.

 

“Do you remember when Peter was the alpha, but his form was all wrong? He looked like some sort of…like some sort of beast?” Stiles turned just in time to catch Derek’s nod. “No one could see it, but he was scarred on the inside from what happened to your family. He lost his humanity because of it, only gained a little of it back going through Lydia to be resurrected, but the power took him over. He wanted it _so badly_ that he killed one of his own family to get it. It never left him. It manifested in his alpha form. Scott…Scott can’t turn that way. He’s been fighting it for so long that it’s manifesting inside him instead.”

 

“He’s a true alpha, that shouldn’t be happening.”

 

“That’s why it could kill him.” Scott interrupted with a whine that hurt Derek’s ears and Stiles jerked back as if he’d been burned. “Fuck!”

 

Derek reached for him immediately, running his fingers down Stiles’ spine, but Scott thrashed in the tub, eyes glazed over with pain. “Hold him,” Stiles ordered as footsteps clattered up the stairs and Deaton entered the bathroom. He’d just knelt down beside the tub to feel Scott’s pulse when Malia and Liam burst in as well, and the bathroom just wasn’t large enough for six people.

 

“Stiles, you’re going to have to draw it out and make it physical,” Deaton was saying, but he made Derek let go of Scott so Liam could hold him down instead. “Derek, you have to go downstairs. Malia, stay just outside the room.”

 

“I’m not leaving Stiles,” Derek growled, knowing full well he didn’t have a choice.

 

“Stiles chose you over Scott whether he meant to or not!” Deaton almost yelled, and it was the loudest he had ever been. “What’s happening to Scott now is not because of that, but it certainly isn’t helping. Until this is a physical manifestation outside of his body, you need to _go_ so that Stiles can focus on Scott.”

 

It was like being doused with cold water, but he stepped back, out of the room and was halfway down the stairs when Stiles came rushing after him. “Derek,” he said, and kissed him so hard that Derek felt it in his toes, felt the magic in Stiles’ chest flare in his own. It lasted maybe a couple of seconds before Stiles pulled away and pressed his lips to Derek’s forehead, whispering, “I’m yours.” He was gone before Derek had a chance to respond, and a moment later Scott screamed so loudly that Derek shifted and bounded out the back door to the preserve, watching the house through the trees and desperate for Stiles.


End file.
